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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23381308">Time Will Tell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrealbird/pseuds/Kestrealbird'>Kestrealbird</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Other, Paradox, Past time travel, but u can read it that way if u want i guess, heavy au, like two AU's in one, not intending to be romance, that feeling when life makes you bone tired, they're dealing with a lot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:47:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,914</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23381308</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrealbird/pseuds/Kestrealbird</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Saluja, Sinbad has to remind himself, is nothing like Ali. Saluja is a spoiled Prince, naive and innocent, who was raised within palace walls and was chosen by a Magi to be a King Vessel. Ali, however, is the exact opposite.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alibaba Saluja &amp; Sinbad, Eight Generals &amp; Alibaba Saluja</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Time Will Tell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've wanted to write both of these AU's for a long time and my friend was like "do both" so I did! The main AU's here are "what if Alibaba never lived in the Palace, and instead grew up in the slums with Kassim until he left Balbadd" and "after clearing Amon's dungeon, Alibaba is sent back in time and ends up joining Sinbad's crew."</p><p>"Ali" is the Alibaba from the above AU's and "Saluja" is the canon Alibaba from the manga. I didn't want to explain all the details of it here just in case I ever decide to do more fics for this AU but I hope you can understand the gist of it anyway</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Saluja, Sinbad has to remind himself, is nothing like Ali. Saluja is a spoiled Prince, naive and innocent, who was raised within palace walls and was chosen by a Magi to be a King Vessel. Ali, however, is the exact opposite. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ali is cunning and shrewd and crueler than his counterpart. Ali was raised on the streets of Balbadd his whole life, in the slums, amongst the beaten and downtrodden. Ali left Balbadd when he was very young and conquered Amon’s dungeon when he was 14 (the same age Sinbad was, when he conquered Baal. They’re amazingly similar to each other, or so they’re repeatedly told) but Saluja did none of that until he was 17 - older and yet less </span>
  <em>
    <span>smart, </span>
  </em>
  <span>overall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ali had no Magi to help him; only wits and, Sinbad suspects, an immense amount of luck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saluja is not Ali, not really, though technically they </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>the “same person” just from different times and different lives. It gives him a headache to think about. He can’t imagine what Ali must feel, seeing a version of himself that was pampered by royalty, a version of himself that </span>
  <em>
    <span>left </span>
  </em>
  <span>Kassim behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saluja does not know about Ali. That’s for the best, really. It’d only cause more problems if he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharrkan likes Saluja well enough but Sinbad can see that it’s hard for him not to compare the two. Ali, after all, is Sharrkan’s equal, and they are much like brothers. Saluja, comparatively, is a weak fighter and hasn’t even gotten </span>
  <em>
    <span>close </span>
  </em>
  <span>to mastering Amon yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sinbad watches him from his window - observes the boy’s friendship with Aladdin and Morgiana and the Kou siblings. He does not </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate </span>
  </em>
  <span>Saluja, not really, but he does compare, and it is very hard to </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>Saluja when Sinbad already has Ali as a reference for the boy’s potential.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re staring again,” Masrur states, coming to stand beside Sinbad, face impassive save for the downturn of his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even after so much time together, Masrur still cannot emote very well. Sinbad likes to believe he can read his friend’s face well enough, but he’s still not as good as Ja’far is. “Have you seen Ali yet?” He asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s deflecting. It’s obvious, yet Masrur lets him. Masrur, after all, also has a habit of staring. It’s a wonder that Saluja hasn’t noticed yet. Ali would’ve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Masrur says, “but he’s here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning away from the window, Sinbad sits back down at his desk, closing his eyes with a sigh. Masrur doesn’t follow. “How long has it been now?” Sinbad wonders aloud. “A few months, surely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Six,” Masrur replies absently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not the longest he’s ever been gone, but Sinbad - and, of course, everyone else - have never missed him more. Saluja’s presence makes them ache, reminding them that one of their own is missing - the ninth general, the secret one that nobody outside of Sindria knows exists. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sinbad sighs again - it’s heavier this time. Masrur turns away from the window. Saluja’s laughter reaches them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kougyoku’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>laughter reaches them.</span>
  <em>
    <span> I can use them,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sinbad thinks. For some reason he’s been hesitating, something he’s never done before. Saluja isn’t Ali. It is not the same. He can use Saluja - </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>use Saluja - but he would never - </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>never - use Ali. Not like this anyway. Not like he plans to with Saluja.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Bastard Prince of Balbadd has many political uses, and he practically worships the very ground that Sinbad walks on. It strokes his ego, yes, but it also disgusts him. Ali used to look at him the same way, when they first met twenty or so years ago. That hero worship had disappeared after two weeks and is a constant source of Ali’s embarrassment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saluja’s worship is different. It is a crush, Sinbad knows, and such things can be exploited. The same is true for Kougyoku. The question, then, is which one he will make his ally first. Saluja will be easier but Kougyoku has longer lasting benefits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need a drink,” Sinbad mutters. “Something strong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Masrur puts a bottle on his desk and says, with such deadpan delivery that Sinbad cannot help his laughter, “vinegar should work.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sinbad doesn’t believe that it’s actually vinegar, because Masrur isn’t the pranking type, so he chugs it back like a shot of mead. He really should learn to start reading the labels on these things instead of just blindly trusting his General’s with his health.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’ll kill him one day and it’ll be his own fault entirely. Masrur, of course, offers no more sympathy than a painful slap to the back and a glass of ice cold water. Asshole.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What did you do </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>time,” is the first thing Ali hears when he enters Sinbad’s office. Ja’far stands before their King, foot tapping impatiently. Sinbad, head buried in his arms, slumped over the desk, can only groan in reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Masrur points to the half-empty bottle beside him, the contents spilled somewhat over the papers and the floor. “Vinegar,” he states simply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ja’far’s brow twitches. “And why,” he asks slowly, “on earth did you drink vinegar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even as he asks this, Ja’far eyes Masrur with suspicion. Masrur, at least, has the decency to look sheepish, turning his head away from Ja’far’s gaze as though that will help him. Sinbad groans once more, managing to raise his head with pathetically pouty lips and watery eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which is, of course, the moment he notices Ali standing in the doorway and brightens considerably. Ali only has a moment to blink before he finds himself crushed into Sinbad’s embrace and spun around the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dizzy from the movement, he croaks out, “I missed you too,” and is subsequently pried away from Sinbad’s arms by Ja’far, who immediately checks him for injuries. “I’m fine,” he assures automatically. “Yamraiha already checked me over,” he hastily adds when Ja’far’s eyes only narrow further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's a simple routine. He leaves for months at a time, and when he returns everyone fusses over him. They’ve gotten worse with it since he came back injured and bleeding to death a few years ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It only took him an hour, this time, to escape Yamraiha’s pestering, instead of the usual four or five, so he counts his blessings today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Masrur, with a gentleness that doesn’t quite match his intimidating figure, softly asks, “are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ali tries to say, “of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” but the words lodge themselves in his throat and he shakes his head instead. “Physically,” he admits at last.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughter from the window makes him tense. Sinbad flinches minutely. Ali sees it out of the corner of his eye. Of course. Saluja’s presence will be a sensitive topic for all of them. Pisti and Spartos had avoided him earlier. He wonders if this is why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He maneuvers himself so he’s leaning back against the desk, staring out at the three of them. “Do you think he will recognize who I am?” It’s a blunt question. It is also, in his opinion, the most important one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Ja’far replies immediately. “You look just different enough that I doubt he’ll make the connection.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Different smells too,” Masrur adds, helpfully eliminating the Fanalis girl from the equation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sinbad hums thoughtfully. “Aladdin - ah, that is, the Magi - might though. He’s brighter than he lets on, but I still think it’d take him a while even if he spoke to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ali thinks on this for a long moment. It’d be easy enough to avoid them. Worst comes to worst he could always cover himself with his hood. His counterpart doesn’t seem to wear much jewellery, so perhaps that could also serve as a way to hide his identity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there is only so much avoiding he can do before one them notices and starts asking too many questions. It’s a headache to think about. Ali will just have to do his best not to blow whatever plans Sinbad has.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” he says, suddenly feeling very tired. “I’ll try not to talk to them unless it's necessary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s funny, actually, how little they’d honestly thought this through. Ali had told them about the Magi’s presence, about the strife in Balbadd and his counterpart’s involvement. And they had appeared to solve it, and Ali himself had left to chase down the stragglers - the ones who would dare to hurt his home, to use </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kassim </span>
  </em>
  <span>of all people - and they had said “we’re taking the kids to Sindria with us, we can use them, they need a place to stay,” and Ali had agreed, too tired to really think about the consequences.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d left without him the next morning. Ali had stayed behind, because someone had to bury Kassim properly. This was not - was not </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>Kassim, but it was still </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kassim,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Ali would not leave his brother’s body without burial again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d thought - hoped - that the extra day of time would better prepare him for the inevitable. It had not, and now he was here, on Sindrian soil, trying desperately not to resent his other self for leading such a seemingly easy life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ali knows it could not have been as easy as it sounds. Compared to his own, however, it feels like luxury. Luxury he did not have, until Amon’s dungeon sent him through time and trapped him in the past, where he met Sinbad and Ja’far and Masrur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ali wonders, sometimes, when exactly The Great Flow decided to fuck with his life so badly. He doesn’t know whether he wants to thank it or curse it more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cursing it is winning out right now, because he’s living an actual Rukh-damned </span>
  <em>
    <span>paradox,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and the more he thinks about that the more he feels like laying down somewhere and never getting up again. At least his friends share those feelings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ja’far, ever a blessing on this world and the person that Ali is </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to leave all his belongings to when he dies, places a comforting hand on his shoulder to ground him. “You look tired,” he offers kindly, “and it’s late -” it isn’t. It may as well be - “rest for a while, hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Resting sounds like heaven right now. He is so, so tired. Sinbad owes him for letting this happen, he thinks, giving his King a cheeky smile. “Carry me o wonderful Sin.” He holds out his arms for extra effect, making grabby hands towards him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Masrur’s lips quirk into a smile and Ja’far politely coughs into his sleeve. Sinbad rolls his eyes, doing as he’s bid, grunting with exaggerated effort as though Ali weighs more than he actually does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s another difference between himself and Saluja, he supposes. No matter how much he eats, Ali never seems to gain more weight than is necessary. Saluja, apparently, according to Spartos, gains weight very quickly once he indulges. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop thinking,” Sinbad admonishes, turning down a hallway that is definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>the one to Ali’s room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least make me dinner first,” Ali jokes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feed you everyday,” Sinbad whines with as much good-nature as he can manage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ali pinches his skin. Sinbad scowls at him. “Correction; the cooks feed me. You do not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I provide the food for them!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ali raises a brow. “When was the last time you did </span>
  <em>
    <span>any </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the hunting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your standards are too high.” Sinbad sighs. “Lower your expectations a little to give the rest of us a chance will you? And stop laughing at me. It’s mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never,” Ali replies, though to what part he can’t recall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pass Sharrkan on the way to Sinbad’s rooms, who whistles and waggles his eyebrows suggestively as they walk by. Sinbad “offers” to carry Sharrkan too and both of them laugh when Sharrkan suddenly remembers he has an “important thing he has to do” and beats a hasty retreat before Sinbad can embarrass him in front of the regular guards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve carried you before you know!” Sinbad calls after him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharrkan’s heavily muffled voice yells back, “can’t hear you!” and the guards around them shake their heads and roll their eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sinbad’s rooms are the largest and comfiest in the Palace, not because he is a King but because he is Sinbad, and he has the most extravagant taste of them all. He drops Ali unceremoniously on the bed, only pausing for half a second before he crawls onto it himself, curling up behind his friend and dragging Ali to his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a time, Ali recalls, when Sinbad never would’ve done this for anyone unless </span>
  <em>
    <span>they </span>
  </em>
  <span>approached </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>first. But he has lost many a person close to him, and there are times where he fears losing his Generals too, and so he will bring them to his rooms or sneak into theirs and curl up beside them, holding them or being held. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, Drakon lives with his wife, and so Sin, by unanimous law, is required to actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>knock </span>
  </em>
  <span>first before entering anyone’s rooms, to avoid any, ah, unfortunate incidents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not mad,” Ali says. And it’s true - he isn’t mad, not really, but he doesn’t really know </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>he feels. He had, very briefly, and only in passing, seen his counterpart in the slums of Balbadd during his visits there with Sinbad. He’d never spoken to the boy though. Nor had he ever entertained the possibility that one day, eventually, he might </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t even known that he was a Prince until ten months ago. He’d suspected, of course, ever since he met Rashid during those visits to Balbadd so long ago, but he’d always pushed it to the back of his mind, determined never to confront that part of his life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s so many things weighing on him. He doesn’t even know where to start breaking them down. Instead he lays in silence, staring blankly at Sinbad’s colourful patterned walls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sinbad’s arms around him are a comforting weight. Kassim died, again, and there was nothing he could do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He isn’t you,” Sinbad says suddenly, quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Ali agrees, “but he could’ve been.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence. “I could’ve been an ordinary merchant had things gone differently for me.” Ali snorts, because he very much doubts that. Sinbad is Sinbad no matter the timeline, and he will always be destined for great things. “It’s true,” he insists. “I only got this far because I had so many people I could rely on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ali turns in his arms to face Sinbad head on, surprised to find the King staring right back at him, looking...hurt?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care about whatever future you came from.” Sinbad’s arms tighten almost painfully around his waist. “You’re an important member of Sindria. You’re an important person to me and to this family -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Family...right. That’s what they were. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ - we’d never replace you, you know that don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So kind, so honest, so...off the mark of his actual problems. Still, Ali appreciated Sinbad’s efforts. His heart was in the right place at any rate. “Did you know I was a Prince?” He says instead. Sinbad falters. It’s answer enough. “How long did you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sinbad closes his eyes, taking a breath. “I...started putting things together when you met King Rashid that first time.” Ah. So their relation had been obvious from the start then. He supposes that makes sense. There weren’t a lot of blondes in Balbadd, let alone ones with eyes as gold as his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s afraid to ask - so afraid to ask - but he has to know -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that why you let me stay with you?” Ali blurts, watching Sinbad’s face intently for any change in his expression. For any hint that his fears are true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Sinbad denies, conviction heavy on his tongue. “At first -” he swallows - “at first I kept you close to me because, in the short term, you were useful. The information you had was useful. And then…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sinbad awkwardly clears his throat. He’s bad at talks like this. It is, according to Pisti, very cute. “I got to know you,” he admits, “and I - I started to care for you. You’re a friend, a member of my family, just like the others.” A smile. “Isn’t that reason enough?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Really, after all this time, it’s amazing how quickly Sinbad can clear away his doubts. Kassim used to do the same. He loves Sindria. He loves Sinbad and Ja’far and Sharrkan and - and everyone here. He wouldn’t trade them for anything. But he misses Kassim. Always will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ali hides his face in Sinbad’s chest, voice muffled by the fabric. “He died again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did,” Sinbad says quietly. When Ali cries he does so with shaking shoulders and gritted teeth, hands gripping Sinbad’s robes in tight fists. When Ali cries, Sinbad holds him throughout it all and wonders what the future holds for them, now that Saluja and the Magi and those other children are here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing simple or easy. It’ll be hard and complicated. They’ve dealt with hard and complicated things before, and they’ll do so again and again and again, no matter how long it takes to make the world as they dream it to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saluja is a deeply personal complication. That is why, out of everyone, Sinbad hopes to crush him underfoot the first chance he gets. He will put Saluja on the throne of Balbadd and when he has overstayed his usefulness, it is that very throne that Sinbad shall use to break him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Balbadd, after all, is rightfully Ali’s and thus -</span>
</p><p>
  <b>It belongs to Sindria.</b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A few things, outside of Ali's presence of course, were changed to canon here. 1) I aged up all the Generals and Sinbad because everyone being closer to Alibaba's age (Sharrkan is 21 when he first meet him can you believe  that shit?) than Sinbad's felt like it didn't make any narrative sense to me so. Yeah. 2) Everything to do with David just. Doesn't exist cuz that was a dumb plot. 3) Everything after the Sindria arc has also been changed. Most notably, Morgiana is the one who went to Reim and met the Fanalis Corps instead of Saluja because I'm mad she never got to do that</p><p>As for the General's ages I will list them here: <br/>Hinahoho - 44<br/>Drakon - 42<br/>Sinbad - 38<br/>Yamraiha and Masrur - 37<br/>Sharrkan - 36<br/>Ja'far and Ali - 34<br/>Pisti and Spartos - 32</p></blockquote></div></div>
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